


Nightly Routine

by amporasbitch



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: But only in a nightmare so, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 06:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4127899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amporasbitch/pseuds/amporasbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Virus gets nightmares, but Trip never gets any thanks for comforting him and he’s beginning to get fed up. But tonight, Virus’s nightmare is far different from the norm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightly Routine

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my God this is. The fluffiest bullshit that's ever been written. Honestly though this thing wrote itself, just like "oh man what if THIS and then THIS THING and what if he says THAT" for like. The entire thing. It got fluffier and grosser and more ridiculous and more ooc by the word and you can tell how hard I try to explain like "LOOK THIS IS WHY THEY DID THE THING" but honestly it's so self-indulgent and so ooc but hopefully you're as much of a sucker for that kinda thing as I am ;w;
> 
> Happy reading! Maybe :'3

Trip was lying in bed, futilely trying to fall asleep. He’d been asleep about an hour ago, but had woken up randomly. Or not quite randomly, but rather from some nightmare that he could barely remember once he’d opened his eyes. Now he could recall nothing about the nightmare at all, and the lingering feeling of fear had long subsided. But sleep still evaded him, and the night was far from over. He sighed aloud, annoyed by his body’s refusal to get some rest.

It was the moment after his sigh that he heard another sound, uncannily like a reply, even though it surely wasn’t. Trip knew that quiet, sad sound. The first few times the sound was made Trip hadn’t heard it, for its low volume was always dampened by the two closed doors between it and Trip. It took something of a practiced, if not expectant ear to detect the sound. It was, he knew, a soft sob. And he knew who it came from.

Trip wasn’t sure why there was such a difference in the way the two had nightmares. They both had the same experiences, and thus each had nightmares about the same things. Trip could never remember his own, and they never affected him very badly, or for very long. But Virus was different. Virus’s nightmares were vivid even after he’d awoken, and they reduced him to a fearful, crying shell of his normal impassive self. Trip sometimes wondered if his own nightmares would affect him in the same way if he remembered them as clearly as Virus remembered his, but always decided that it didn’t really matter. Trip’s nightmares were one way, Virus’s were another.

Every nightmare Virus awoke from sparked the same routine. Virus, after a few minutes, would come into Trip’s room. He never knocked, either because he knew he’d be allowed in or because he was simply too shaken to remember to knock. He wouldn’t ask if he could stay with Trip, he would just state that he wanted to. Even after a nightmare, Virus was still Virus, after all. Trip would move over to make room for him on his bed, and Virus would crawl to Trip and huddle against him, still crying. Sometimes he’d say, in choppy, tearful half-sentences, what he’d just dreamed about, sometimes he’d be sobbing too hard to speak. Either way, Trip would always do the same thing: Hug him, hold him, wrapping Virus up in his strong arms. Virus always accepted this comfort, burying himself into Trip’s chest. Trip would rub Virus’s back, maybe pet his hair. Eventually, Virus would cry himself to sleep in Trip’s arms, and Trip would lay Virus next to him in bed and fall asleep beside him.

Trip didn’t mind any of this, and perhaps that was the problem. He enjoyed it a little too much, the thought of Virus needing Trip as much as Trip needed Virus. Virus was always so cold and uncaring, but Trip understood it was more a product of his personality and less a representation of his feelings for Trip, given that he’d stuck by the younger man for so long. Yet it still felt bad, sometimes, so hold a feeling for Virus that the man himself seemed incapable of returning. Especially on nights when Virus would come to Trip wanting comfort, attention, and dare Trip think it, love. Because Trip knew it was never real. Maybe while it happened, while Virus was crying, it was real, but it was only real for as long as it lasted. For Virus always woke up before Trip the mornings after, leaving Trip to wake up to an empty bed. Trip knew it was intentional, for he and Virus got up at the same time on every other day. That, and Virus would act as if the night had never happened when he gave Trip a morning greeting. Not out of embarrassment, Trip knew. Virus was never easily embarrassed. It was almost intentional torment, it was Virus turning a moment of vulnerability around on Trip, completing and winning another mind game. Trip was used to most of Virus’s mind games, but not this one. This one always hurt.

Which was why Trip felt the familiar apprehension and dread sink into his stomach as he heard Virus begin to sob. It was like the beginning of a high, and the next morning would be the horrible crash. Trip was an addict on these nights, wanting the high so bad, crash be damned, and then regretting it in the morning when Virus treated Trip the same as before. As someone he was used to, not fond of or in need of. But it wasn’t like he could refuse Virus and save himself the hurt. This was routine now, and besides, Trip could never be able to say no to Virus’s tearful face.

As expected, Trip heard the door to his bedroom open, and looked over to see Virus standing in the doorway. Virus didn’t have his glasses, and his hair was flatter and messier than it was during the day. His black silk pajamas nearly made him blend in with the darkness, but Trip could still make out the outline of his hunched form. Virus was trembling, and his breathing was heavy as tears spilled out of his eyes and down his cheeks.

“I want to stay with you tonight.” He said, as curt as he could be in his broken state. The same words as always. Trip nodded, sitting up and moving over to give Virus the space to join him. As usual. Virus walked to the bed and crawled onto it, scooting up beside Trip and curling up, continuing to cry. Trip put his arms around the smaller man, holding him tight. Like always. Yet Trip always surprised himself by how gentle he was on these nights, how arms and hands that were strong enough to strangle a man or beat him to a pulp could so tenderly wrap around Virus, enveloping him in warmth. Trip let himself close his eyes as Virus cuddled into Trip’s chest, allowing himself to relish the feeling of being so close to the man he loved. But his eyes flew back open when Virus abruptly threw his arms around Trip and hugged him back, burying his head in his shoulder, fists clutching the fabric of Trip’s sleep shirt.

Huh. That was new.

No matter how distraught or how needy Virus was on nights like this, he never proactively touched Trip like that. He never so much as lifted his hands except to cover his own crying face as he burrowed into Trip’s chest. Even after a bad nightmare, Virus was always so calculated in his actions, as if it were some ingrained instinct rather than his own inclination. This was not calculated, and Trip knew that it had to mean something.

But he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t further disrupt the routine. Perhaps, he thought, Virus would say something. Trip turned out to be right. The two sat like that in silence for only a minute or two, each holding and being held, before Virus spoke up.

“I had a…d-different nightmare.” Virus said through whimpers.

“Oh?” Trip answered, interest edging his voice. That explained the break in routine. The routine had been broken from the beginning.

“It wasn’t about back then,” Virus sniffled, not bothering to clarify what “back then” meant, knowing that Trip already understood. And he did understand. The “back then” was when the two were children, when they were experimented on. Virus’s nightmares were about how he got the injection scars on his back that his sleep shirt covered, or the surgery that tampered with his eyes and made them that icy blue. Trip had the same scars, the same eyes, and he assumed that the nightmares he could never remember were about them as well. But tonight, apparently, Virus had dreamt something different. How uncanny that the night they both had nightmares was the one night they had different nightmares.

“Then what was it about?” Trip asked, as he trailed a hand down Virus’s back. In normal circumstances he’d snort out the words with a scoff, make his tone ever so mocking. But that was only because Virus would have spoken to him condescendingly first, turning their every conversation into another mind game. During these nights, however, there were no mind games. Tomorrow morning it would become one, yes, but for now it was innocent. So Trip’s tone was subdued, almost concerned as he spoke to the crying man in his arms. He was surprised to hear Virus stutter an ugly half-sob half-laugh.

“I c-can’t believe it myself, but…” Virus smiled bitterly into Trip’s shoulder even as he whimpered.

“What?” Trip asked, slightly impatient. Even on these nights, Trip was still Trip, just as Virus was still Virus.

Before he replied, Virus lightly pulled away from Trip to look him in the face. Yet another things that was off routine. Virus was always content to keep his face against Trip’s chest, never lifting his head. Trip felt his heart twist in a familiar longing pain as Virus’s red, puffy eyes met his. Tears were still running down his face, yet his expression was serious. Maybe too serious, given the circumstances, Trip thought apprehensively.

“I dreamed,” Virus began, sighing, “I dreamed that y-you were dead.” He shook his head. “I never thought I’d dream about that, that it would affect me like this-”

But Trip was past listening. The pain in his heart had clenched into an angry burning at Virus’s words. Virus was always intentional. Virus was always calculated. Virus didn’t do things on accident, not even when he had nightmares. There was no way this wasn’t an act, a lie. Virus could very well have had a nightmare tonight, but there was no way it deviated from the norm. It never did. Virus didn’t care. Virus went to sleep and woke up and acted like nothing happened. Virus would never care about Trip enough to dream about him. Trip may have let himself be taken in so many times before, he may have allowed himself the high and subsequent crash, he may have indulged in and played along with Virus’s many mind games, but he was no fool. And he would not let Virus make a fool of him tonight. Not like this.

It was his turn to break routine.

Trip shoved Virus away from him roughly. Virus gasped as he was pushed, the force of it sending him over the edge of the bed. He didn’t land very hard, and was thus able to get up right away. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it again when he saw the look on Trip’s face. Trip was very rarely angry, and coincidentally enough, it was usually on Virus’s behalf. Trip had seen grown men cower in fear in the face of his anger, and rightly so. Trip was dangerous when he was angry. And right now, he was _excruciatingly_ angry.

“Go cry yourself to sleep without me.” Trip growled, turning away from Virus’s shocked face and settling back into bed. Trip was not about to be had like this. He didn’t know what he’d do about this tomorrow, but then again, he doubted Virus would act like anything unusual had happened. Trip could punch Virus for what he’d done, beat him into the ground, but it wouldn’t make a difference. It’s only make Virus grin smugly, seeing Trip lose his composure, knowing how badly what he’d done had affected the younger man. Getting back at Virus would only make it worse for Trip in the end, so it was better to end it now, before it could get worse, before Virus gained an even bigger victory out of this mind game than he already had.

“Trip,” Virus whimpered, despairing. “No, please, just listen, I’m-”

“You’re what?” Trip snarled, sitting back up and whipping his angry gaze at Virus. He figured Virus would’ve stopped acting by now, but then, he wasn’t prepared for the look on the older man’s face. He was still crying hard, breathing labored from sobbing, eyes still an ugly red from the tears. But he was wringing his hands, and the expression on his face was nothing short of heartbroken. He’d been smaller than Trip for years, but now he looked so tiny, so fragile, so breakable. And it was Trip who’d made him look like that. His heart twisted at the thought, but his mind continued to question how real this could possibly be. How real Virus’s anguish could be.

“Y-you mean a lot to me,” Virus sobbed, “It t-took me dreaming about l-losing you to realize it, I’m so-”

“So _what_?” Trip growled. Virus had sidestepped his first question, but Trip was damn well going to get an answer this time.

“So _stupid_.” Virus almost wailed, covering his face with his hands. “S-so stupid and so awful to you and, fuck, we’ve been together so l-long, how could I not know my own f-feelings…”

Trip’s blood ran cold at Virus’s words. How long, how _long_ had he been waiting to hear those words from Virus? To hear Virus apologize, to hear him say he loved Trip. But how sincere could it be? This was _Virus_ , after all. Virus was still Virus, Virus was always Virus. Trip felt the anger coming back.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” Trip snapped, glaring at Virus.

“H-how can I prove it to you?” Virus sobbed helplessly.

“Kiss me.” Trip answered almost immediately. Virus was usually so averse to touching, even on these-or those, perhaps-nightmare nights when he only used his hands to cover his own face. During the day, Virus was ever so careful not to get close enough to Trip to prevent himself from accidentally bumping into Trip while walking, or brushing a hand against his while passing work papers to him. Not even Virus could act his way through something as intimate as a kiss.

So Trip was beyond surprised when Virus practically jumped on him, throwing his arms around Trip’s neck and crushing his lips against his. The kiss was broken by Virus’s own sob, so he kissed Trip again. And again. So many feather-light yet passionate kisses, one after the other, that Trip lost track of the number. Virus couldn’t fake this. There was no way he could fake this kind of emotion.

Just like that, Trip felt the burn in his beleaguered heart move to his eyes and throat. Virus’s lips choked off Trip’s sob as he wrapped his arms tight around the smaller man. He had to break away to take a shuddering breath as tears began to fall. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, much less cried in front of Virus. He started to return Virus’s kisses, neither of them being able to make them very long or deep due to their crying.

“You-” Trip began, voice warped from his tears, “I hate you, I _hate_ you-”

“I know, I’m s-sorry,” Virus murmured between sobs, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Trip didn’t hate Virus, but he hated everything he’d put him through. He hated all the mind games Virus forced him into and won, he hated all the times he knowingly or unknowingly played with Trip’s heart. Virus knew that’s what he meant, and he apologized. As cruel as Virus has been to Trip they still know each other better than anyone else. That understanding showed Trip just how sincere Virus was being. How much he meant this. And Trip didn’t think he’d ever been so happy in his entire life.

“I love you, I love you, I fucking love you,” Trip whimpered against Virus’s lips, “I’ve been in love with you for so fucking long-”

“I’m so sorry,” Virus sobbed, “I love you, I love you too, Trip-”

Trip and Virus went on like that for a while, kissing each other, holding each other, crying, interrupting each other with apologies and confessions, as the emotions both had held down for so long-Trip willingly, and Virus unknowingly, it seemed-spilled over. They only stopped crying because they were too physically exhausted to cry any further. But they remained in each other’s arms, Trip not wanting to let go, and Virus apparently wanting to let go even less by the way he was clinging to the younger man. Trip felt a hot breath on his shoulder and heard a small sound, recognizing both as a yawn from Virus. After which came a hiccup that Trip couldn’t help chuckling at.

“Hey,” Virus muttered, pulling away enough to glare at Trip, although it looked more like a pout. “It’s not my fault you, hic, made me cry so much.”

“It is a little.” Trip hummed good-naturedly as he brushed a hand over Virus’s cheek, relishing the soft, if not tear-sticky skin, and the way Virus leaned into his hand.

“Hmm.” Virus said, apparently too tired to come up with a better response. It amazed Trip in a way, how they were acting so normal now, bantering with each other as they always did. But this time without condescending or mocking bite, without the need to best each other through words. Simple, playful banter, the kind Trip had always wanted with Virus, instead of having to constantly be on his toes and choose his words so carefully.

“Let’s try to sleep, you can hardly keep your eyes open.” Trip suggested. It was true, Virus’s expression was incredibly relaxed, and it looked like it was taking all his energy to keep his head up. Further proving Trip right, Virus couldn’t even reply with anything other than another yawn. So they laid down, Trip pulling the covers over them both. Trip still didn’t want to let go of Virus, holding the smaller man against him as they both began to fall asleep.

Trip knew why he was so preoccupied with holding onto Virus. Because a part of him was still expecting this night to end the same way as all the others did. Even after all the tears, after the affectionate way Virus treated him, it all felt like some sort of dream. A good dream, for once, but one that Trip feared would end in a crash just like all those other dreamlike nights. He didn’t want to wake up without Virus in his arms. He didn’t want to walk into the kitchen and see Virus drinking coffee and reading the morning news on his coil like nothing happened. Although Trip knew logically that holding Virus wouldn’t stop him from leaving the bed if he wanted to, it made him feel better about the whole situation, somehow. It still seemed ludicrous to him that all it took for Virus to realize his feelings was a nightmare about Trip’s death. But then, Virus had always been badly affected by his nightmares. Then again, he always got over them quickly once Trip provided comfort.

It was with a sinking feeling that Trip realized he might have really been made a fool of tonight, the worst he’d ever been.

But Trip didn’t want to think about that. He wanted to believe Virus. He wanted to believe in this night, for once. So he let his eyes close, pulled Virus closer, and hoped, even as his consciousness faded, that there would still be a warmth in his arms when he awoke.

~~~

Virus woke up first. He observed, with some guilt, that he was used to waking up early on nights like the one before, nights when he had nightmares. But last night had been so different from those other nights. Because Virus had dreamed such a different nightmare, and now, he found himself staring at Trip’s sleeping face, not wanting to get out of bed.

Trip looked much more relaxed when he slept, and with good reason, he acknowledged, feeling another pang in his gut as he did so. He had to admit to himself, however, how much he’d enjoyed tormenting Trip, starting competitions and winning them, bringing out the best-or the worst-in Trip as he saw fit, whether or not the experience was as fun for Trip as it was for himself. Virus had seen life with Trip as a series of games, in which he always came out on top. Was it a personality flaw, perhaps? Virus didn’t think that was too farfetched of an idea. After what he’d been through so long ago, he’d thought his capacity for real emotion was gone. Trip was similar to him, but his emotions ran much deeper. He was just good at hiding it-except when Virus pushed his buttons.

Virus shook his head at the thought, despite how true he knew it was. He was still in shock that it took a nightmare to realize how much he needed Trip. But he knew should’ve realized it much sooner. After all, he and Trip had been together for such a long time. Virus rarely ever tried to imagine what it would be like if Trip wasn’t around, but when he did, he found it very difficult to picture. Virus was so used to Trip’s presence, so used to him backing Virus up in a fight, handing over a work paper, sitting in the kitchen with a book and some new sweet. Virus hardly ever considered what loneliness might feel like, what grief felt like, what it would be like to look around himself and not see Trip there. He was an intelligent person, he knew as much about himself, but he was very stupid, it seemed, when it came to emotional intelligence, to feeling.

He could still remember the nightmare. It presented like an ordinary job, with he and Trip going to a gang to collect what was due. Those jobs were always the riskiest, since when the gang couldn’t pay, they felt they had little to lose. And they were right about that, definitely, although it would make him and Trip’s job easier if they didn’t feel that way about it. As those jobs sometimes do, it broke into a fight, the members trying to beat down Virus and Trip to relieve their group of its debt, albeit in a roundabout way. Those fights were troublesome, for sure, and he and Trip were often injured, but usually not seriously, and never enough to kill. But not this time, not in this nightmare.

In this nightmare, guns came out. Not a horrible problem; Virus and Trip had guns too. But unlike so many times before, the gang members were quicker with the shot than the two of them. Quicker than Trip. There were dozens of bullets being fired, dozens of people being hit, but the bullet that hit Trip was much louder coming from the gun than the rest. Trip had been shot before, so had Virus, usually in the arm or hand as they protected their face, sometimes in their side or leg. But never the head. Never so cleanly, quickly, just between the eyes like Trip was shot in the nightmare.

Trip fell instantly, without a sound, and that was frightening in itself. To be such a big presence in life and go out with neither a bang nor a whimper, only silence, save for the thud of his body as it hit the ground. Virus stared, shock-still, unable to believe what he was seeing. The other gang members, the other guns and bullets had disappeared from the dreamscape, but Virus didn’t notice. He was still looking at Trip, at his wide-open eyes and the tiny hole between them leaking blood.

Virus found himself crying out, throwing himself down to Trip’s body, shaking him like the action could bring life back into him. But even as he did, he felt the warmth in Trip’s skin fading as the blood in his veins stopped moving. All those scenarios that Virus couldn’t, no, hadn’t let himself imagine came flying into his head. Going back to an empty, too-big house, expecting Trip to be in places he could no longer go, going out to jobs alone, fielding questions about where his partner had gone. Being alone for as long as he was set to live.

Had Virus always needed Trip? Yes, that was indisputable now. But had he always loved him? Was this separation changing his thoughts? But how could they be? From childhood they’d been each other’s only friend, each other’s only comfort. Half-forgotten memories of a young Trip giving Virus a gentle kiss on the cheek and holding his hand after another experiment, and Virus doing the same for Trip, filled his mind. Even in a dream, those memories were unmistakably real. And suddenly Virus wanted that same comfort from Trip. He clutched the younger man’s cold hand, holding it tightly, as if he could squeeze life into it. Virus kissed Trip’s colder cheek, as if it was some bad fairytale, that Trip could be awoken with a kiss.

But it was no good. Trip was dead, Trip was gone, never to realize that Virus cared about him after all, never to realize that Virus could feel anything stronger than complacency for him. Virus couldn’t speak, what could he say? Sorry? What good was that? Trip would never hear it. Trip died thinking that Virus only tolerated him insofar as he was useful. And Virus had thought it, too. Is this what it took? Trip’s death? Was that what was needed to snap him out of that false feeling?

That thought was what brought Virus out of his reverie about the nightmare. He shook his head to clear it, even as he realized how apt that last thought had been. It wasn’t merely a nightmare that brought the feelings to light, it had been losing Trip. Even if it wasn’t real, it had felt as real as day to Virus when he was dreaming it, and it felt so real after waking up that he’d half-expected to walk across the hall and peek into an empty bedroom.

But Trip had been right to be so angry at Virus when he talked about his nightmare. It was only natural to assume that Virus had been trying to trick him. Even so, Virus shuddered at the memory of being shoved away and glared at so viciously. That had hurt, even if it had only been a measure of the hurt that Virus had dealt Trip. But Trip had let Virus prove himself, and Virus had been all too happy to do so. His heart near-fluttered remembering all those kisses from last night, remembering the things Trip had said to him, that he’d loved Virus for a long time. Somehow it warmed Virus’s heart to feel so wanted. Perhaps that was how Trip had felt on those nightmare nights. So many new things that Virus was feeling, so many things Trip already knew so well. Virus never thought he’d have anything to learn from Trip, but perhaps he’s been mistaken.

Virus knew their relationship wouldn’t be perfect immediately, even with all those confessions the night before. It would probably take a while for Trip to be able to trust him, and it would probably take Virus a while to get used to loving someone else. But they could do it. They’d never failed at anything before, and the battle was already half-won. They already knew each other so well, and now it was a matter of thinking about each other differently. A difficult task, but not an impossible one. As Trip began to wake up beside him, Virus knew that he was already taking the first step in being here to see it. Little by little, they’d make a new routine. Virus kissed the tip of the younger man’s nose as his eyes opened.

“Good morning, Trip.”

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT DID I TELL YOU so fluffy so gross so ooc but God this is all I want for these chucklefucks. I want Virus to pull his head out of his ass and make out with Trip already and if it's never gonna happen in canon then I'm gonna have to make it happen myself ;w; Maybe y'all feel the same way? ViTri makeouts by any means necessary? Idk. I hope.
> 
> Tbh I really liked writing this and I do like it but I'm usually so good about characterization and this time I felt like I threw it out the window lmao :'3
> 
> Unfortunately I don't have anything else written atm and I don't have many ideas but I'll take a look at suggestions if anyone has them! Can't promise I'll use them all, though. Or any of them. An idea might give me the inspiration to do something completely different. Inspiration is weird like that. Anyway, comments and kudos are appreciated, and see y'all next time, whenever that may be! :D


End file.
